The Wand-Maker
by Junior BLD
Summary: A blind girl discovers her potential when she walks into Ollivander's wand shop for the first time.


**A/N: Hi! This is mainly just supposed to be a little one-shot based on a trip to Harry Potter World at Universal Studios. I hope you like it!**

A tiny bell tinkled overhead as Brigitte opened the door to the wand-maker's shop. The place was narrow and shabby, with peeling, gold letters painted above the door, which read 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.'. A single wand sat on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window display.

"Come in! Come in!" Ollivander called, and Brigitte stepped into the little shop, sliding her cane in an arc in front of her. Her heart pounded with giddy anticipation at the prospect of finally receiving her new wand.

Ollivanders was tiny; empty except a short, spindly table, a vase of flowers, and shelves stacked to the ceiling with thousands of long, wooden, wand boxes. Everything was covered by a thin layer of dust. A small, flickering lantern provided the only light in the shop, but the air hummed with magic and excitement.

"Welcome to Ollivanders." Standing before Brigitte was the wand-maker himself, an old man with wide, pale silver eyes that shone like moons. His voice was soft and gentle when he spoke. "Here for Hogwarts, I presume-" Suddenly, his voice trailed off as he got a good look at Brigitte. He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming like stars. "I have been waiting for you."

"You… have?" Brigitte asked, her hazel eyes drawing to the dim lantern, the brightest thing in the room.

Ollivander nodded and led her into the light to get a better look at her. "Now, Brigitte, would this be your first wand fitting?" he asked, his soft eyes fixed on her.

"Yes," Brigitte answered, transferring her cane from one hand to the other.

Ollivander nodded. "That is quite the special occasion. Many young witches and wizards have waited their entire lives for their wand fitting." The wand-maker pulled out a tape measure with silver markings, "Now, do you know your wand arm?"

Brigitte thought for a moment. "Uh- my right hand," she answered.

"Please hold it out for me, palm up."

Brigitte did as she was told and Ollivander measured her from elbow to fingertips, around her head, and from floor to shoulder. "Here at Ollivanders, we use the core of a powerful, magical, substance: Unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. Now, no two Ollivander wands are quite the same, just as no two phoenixes, unicorns, or dragons are quite the same, and you can never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Brigitte realized that the magic tape measure, which had done most of the measuring on its own, now lay in a crumpled heap at her feet. Embarrassed, she awkwardly lowered her arm to her side and listened as Ollivander hurried over to the shelves and began taking down wand boxes.

"Yes, here we are…" Ollivander muttered, picking up one of the wooden boxes and bringing it to Brigitte. Brigitte's heart fluttered in her chest as Ollivander lifted the lid and held up a long, thin, piece of wood. "Sixteen and a half inches, rather bendy, made of oak." He held the wand out to her and waited with bated breath.

 _Whoosh_! The moment the wand passed into Brigitte's hands, a mighty gust of wind ruffled her blonde hair, and a burst of red light shot from the wand tip!

"Oh, my! Quite powerful stuff, Brigitte!" Ollivander cried with astonishment, gazing at the flowers in the corner, which were now wilted and shriveled. He pointed his own wand at the dying plants. "Aguamente!" A jet of water shot from the tip of Ollivander's wand, rejuvenating the plants and undoing the damage.

"Uh…" Brigitte said, a little shaken up, as the wand-maker walked back to her.

"Well, unfortunately that is not your wand," he said, taking the oak wand and returning it to its box, "but, we will find it." He placed the failed wand off to the side. Brigitte listened with interest as Ollivander offered up fascinating information about magic and wizardry. "Those of us who have studied wand lure know that it is the wand that chooses the wizard, though it's not always clear… as to why."

Brigitte leaned forward as another wand box was presented to her. Maybe this one would be hers.

"Thirteen and a half inches, pleasantly springy, made of hawthorn."

Brigitte hesitated, then lifted the wand. It felt okay in her hand, and kept the explosive, flower-wilting magic to itself. That was a good sign.

"Now," Ollivander said, "there is a set of wand boxes to your left- all the way up- yes. Now, I want you to levitate one of those wand boxes." The wand-maker rested a gentle hand on the tip of the wand Brigitte held, carefully guiding her arm as he instructed her. "Give your wand a swish and flick, and say 'Wingardium Leviosa'!"

"Wingardium leviosa!"

 _Crash_! Brigitte gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth as the pile of wand boxes, once neat and tidy, fell in a heap on the floor with a loud clatter, kicking up clouds of dust. "Sorry," she apologized timidly, hoping nothing was permanently damaged. After all, it took powerful magic to fix broken wands.

"That's all right," Ollivander said kindly, "The shelves may have fallen, but I can fix that… Repairo!" He pointed his wand at the fallen boxes and they magicked themselves back into their proper place. Brigitte let out the breath she was holding and returned the wand to its maker.

Ollivander didn't look discouraged. In fact, he seemed delighted to have a difficult customer to work with. "These connections can be quite tricky." Ollivander turned to the mountain of wand boxes before him, looking as if he were ready to spend the rest of the night searching until he found the right one for Brigitte. "It's always when there is the strongest affiliation between a wand and a wizard that there's that one thing that just…"

However, Ollivander's thought remained unfinished as he gazed, transfixed, at one of the boxes on the shelf, as if it were calling to him. "Yes," he muttered, and scrambled to retrieve the wand. It was one of the dustier boxes, but he brought it out all the same, carefully wiping the dirt from the slightly tarnished wood. "A wand of ash, fourteen and three quarters, nice and springy."

Brigitte felt a moment's warmth spread through her fingers as Ollivander handed the wand to her. She fingered the delicate leaf pattern carved into the dark wood and thought this one felt promising.

"Now, give that a wave," Ollivander encouraged.

Brigitte raised the wand high over her head, waved it in a circle, and brought it down through the air. To her surprise, and great happiness, the wand tip ignited, and dazzling, white light erupted from the wand, filling the room with blinding illumination! Sparks of white and gold light danced across the walls like fireflies. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen!

Ollivander laughed with joy, having realized their success. "A perfect fit, Brigitte!" he exclaimed as the light faded from the room. "Now, a wand of ash is good for healing, and protection in water. I sense you'll be quite prosperous in life. And, the dragon heartstring core… Your fierce loyalty will be admired by your friends and those around you… I believe we can expect good things from you, Brigitte!"

Brigitte held her new wand out in front of her, tracing her fingers along the ridged, ring-like indents in the shiny, dark wood of the handle, puzzling over what the wand-maker had said.

"One last time, if I may." Ollivander took the wand from her, placed it back in the box, and wrapped it in brown paper. Still thinking about Ollivander's words, Brigitte drew out seven large, gold Galleons and handed them to him. The wand-maker took the wizard currency and placed the newly wrapped wand in her hands.

The blind girl thanked Ollivander and walked out of the shop, his words echoing in her mind. 'I believe we can expect _good_ things from you, Brigitte.'

 **A/N: So, yeah! I thought this would be fun to write, so I did! Comments are appreciated!**


End file.
